No Angel of Mine
by NataliaNicolette
Summary: He spun, fumbling with the shot gun in hand. "The choice is yours, you can choose to stay, or leave." Embry's life takes some unexpected twists and turns and he finds himself at the mercy of a complete angel. *New Universe. Embry/OC.
1. Prologue A Choice to Make

_©NataliaNicolette_

_AN: So I've been working on a new Embry story. Oddly enough, this is the scene that I first imagined when I was coming up with this plotline. It inspired the entire thing, so I thought I would give you guys a little taste and see what you thought. It's full of twists and turns and I hope that it's good. To read the full summary, you can check it out on my profile. This is a prologue of some sorts just to see how it all jives with you loves. Hope it doesn't disappoint._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing you may or may not recognize other than my own original content. Any original Twilight characters and or plot belongs to Stephanie Meyer and Little Brown Publishing. No copyright infringement intended._

"_Cuz I heard the whispered words - within._

_You're masterpiece beautiful."_

_©There For You / Flyleaf_

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000. Prologue. No Angel of Mine

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The steel of the shotgun was heavy in his massive hands. The gentle rain began to pelt against him in a rhythm. It had been days since her death, and he had yet to feel a thing - until now.

Now he felt, broken, lifeless. . . Meaningless.

He'd never been one to pity himself, only one to show pity to others. He had a gift to make things seem less awful than they really were, to make one smile with ease. Where had that gift gone? Why was it that he could empathize with one other's pain, but weeks after he said goodbye to his beloved mother, his only anchor in this world, he couldn't even feel sadness.

For those days it had just been nothing. Not a burn of pain, not an ache of agony - just a dull nothing.

Now, as he stood, feet at the edge of the very cliffs he had scattered his mother's ashes off of, shotgun cocked, locked and ready to fire, he felt it all in one wave of melancholy. The departure of his mother made his heart buzz in pain, the father he never knew made him feel helpless, the absence of someone to captivate his heart made him feel broken down. Without his only confidant in life, he was now meaningless.

His hands shook on the barrel of the physical form of death. It was cold. He was cold. The rain began to ease as he wondered if the gun would actually kill him.

It seemed that death for a werewolf was near impossible. He was built of steel, but so was the shotgun.

Would it work? Would this end the feeling of nothing he'd begun to battle with?

He shrugged indifferently, not caring if it did, testing the limit. Death possibly rested in the trigger, all he had to do was pull.

With shaky hands and a broken demeanor, he raised the barrel, reaching to rest his warm hand on the trigger. It was now that he really thought of the outcome. He would no longer exist if this panned out. He would no longer wonder and hurt, or even feel numb because in all reality being numb was just as bad as being in constant heartache.

He was done.

And he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the clouds thin just barely, the warm sun creating a calm sensation behind the thick clouds. He sighed, tears mottled streaks down his stoic face. He was just an instant away now, ready to beckon the feeling of freedom from this meaningless existence.

His finger trembled on the trigger that seemed so small, yet so large in theory. As the clouds slowly parted in slight, the suns ray beamed through the space.

Embry opened his eyes. He breathed deep one last time, glad that the sun would be the last thing he saw.

And when his finger began to squeeze on the trigger he awaited for what he thought was his fate.

And his fate spoke to him, bright and strong.

"Is this really what you want?" her voice spoke from behind him. Startled by the bystanders raspy, honey like tone, he fumbled with the shot gun, gaining some control and keeping a firm grip on it. He spun, surprised and frightened he hadn't heard her approach.

She stood a head and a half shorter than he, long hair whispering to the wind, honey skin glowing in the disappearing sunlight.

For the first time in his life, Embry was completely at a loss for words. She was glorious, she was beautiful, she was like an angel. His world was sent into a weak spin, as the death he planned now gripped in his unsure hand, and the unplanned future stood before him.

She smiled brightly at him, as if she was not shocked at all that he was here, on the cliff side, about to leave a life of emptiness.

The breath that gave him life was suddenly short as she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid his eyes upon. His head became dizzy as she opened her mouth to speak again.

"You're far to fortunate to leave a life that has just begun." Even knowing that he'd imprinted on this stranger, Embry snorted. It was all to ironic, but the only thing that registered in his mind was the stunning stranger in front of him and how she spoke like she knew everything about him. "Although that choice is yours to make." she gestured to the gun in his hand. "You can choose to leave," the words she spoke drifted to him in the air like smoke, "Or stay." she said simply.

It was amazing that in a single moment, his view of life had changed. This girl was now his life line. His heart was rooted through hers, she was the reason to wake up in the mornings to come. To know her, to hold her, to love her was all the motivation he needed to know that the shotgun was not going to be put to use. He dropped the death contraption with an audible clank on the cliffy surface, breath going shallow.

Before he had a chance to form an educated reply to the girl, Embry's breath was nearly gone, his head become fuzzy as his vision of the angelic girl faded away, his lids became heavy and his mind fizzled to nothing.

The last thing he remembered hearing was the girl's appraisal for his choice. She knew him without him even speaking a word.

As his mind began to slip under the blackness he was overwhelmed with a new sense. The sense of purpose. It was all her.

The stranger on the cliffs, the stranger that challenged his plans of death, the stranger whose smile was like sunshine, the stranger that he fell in love with in an instant - the stranger that gave him a purpose.

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_Reviews are loved! : )_


	2. Angry at Anger

©NataliaNicolette

_Although I own nothing you may or may not recognize aside from my own original content. Twilight, it's characters and any original plotlines belong to Stephanie Meyer and Little Brown Publishing. No copyright infringement intended._

_AN : Beginning of something new that I've been thinking about a lot lately. So I hope you enjoy._

_The entire story is inspired by the song "Look After You" by the Fray. It's a heartbreakingly amazing song. I had heard it before I started writing this NAOM and it is truly a big inspiration to me, so check it out!_

_"I am going away for a while,_

_But I'll be back, don't try and follow me,_

_I'll return as soon as possible._

_See I'm trying to find my place,_

_But it might not be here where I feel safe."_

_©Misguided Ghosts / Paramore_

_

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_

_No Angel of Mine_

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_"I want to be spread among the sea." her words were light, a smile on her face. I glanced at my mother in the passenger seat of my old pick up truck, shifting the gears between us. _

_"Well, I don't plan on you dying anytime soon, so it doesn't matter." I shot back with the same airy, light tone. She grinned at me. _

_"I can't be here forever, Em." she sighed, looking longingly out the window at the rain that splattered across the glassy surface. "And when I'm gone, I want to be cremated and sprinkled in the waters of First Beach." I rolled my eyes._

_"Of all beaches, why the hell would you want to be spread in First Beach." I teased. My mom swatted my arm, moving the leftovers from that afternoons lunch in her lap._

_"I grew up near there, boy." she said in a scolding tone. "It's home to me." I nodded, understanding. "So that's where I better end up, hear me?" she said mock sternly._

_"Yes, ma'am." I saluted with my free hand. "Whatever you say."_

I shook my head and that simply insignificant memory from nearly a year ago from my mind. The wooden urn in my hands was heavy and the beach was eerily quiet that morning. I sighed, feeling like I might be sick.

A heavy hand rested on my shoulder.

I shook it off, not wanting to be consoled at the particular moment. "I'm sorry, man." the rasped tone sounded from behind me. I just wished the pack would leave me be. "I really am." Sam just wouldn't let me sit alone in silence.

"Sam," I sighed, "I'm alright, alright?" I snapped slightly, "Just leave me alone, so I can do this shit." I stomped down the beach, approaching the cliffs.

There were no footsteps that followed and I rejoiced.

When I'd gotten the energy to climb the actual cliffs, I sat near the edge, feet dangling, heart pumping cold for the first time since I'd transformed into a wolf.

Was there something wrong with me?

My mother killed herself. . .

And I had yet to shed a tear.

I wanted to, but it wouldn't happen. My mind was too overrun and sunken in to even comprehend any other emotion other than shock and wonder.

Wonder why she did this to herself.

Shock that she was so unhappy that she couldn't just talk to me.

Even though I kept telling myself that this was all her fault, that she's the one that tightened the rope around her neck, that I could have helped her, if she would have just spoke to me, told me what the hell was going on in her head.

I should have known something was wrong.

She started work at the factory in Forks. After a few weeks of the night shift, she'd come home complaining that the men were insufferable pigs. She was one of the only females in the facility. I had offered to personally take a trip down there, and handle anyone that had been giving her grief, but she declined, insisting she would be fine. But I should have known that things were bad when she'd sit in the front room and cry herself to sleep. I'd asked her, so many times, what was the matter, but she'd never tell me. Never.

My mother wasn't a crier, she never had been.

Why had she cried so much?

I pinched the bridge of my nose, cradling the urn in my free arm and cursing this life. My dad was a giant question mark in my existence, I had yet to find my significant other in an imprint and I doubted that I ever would, now my mother was dead and gone. I had nothing left, I was nothing.

I fought the rage that wracked throughout my body as the realization of what my life had become echoed in my mind. I was angry my mother took her own life, I was angry I had no imprint, no father, I was angry I had no purpose.

My body began to shake violently. I fought the urge to phase.

When my mind was clear enough, I uncapped the urn and stared longingly at the ash that was my mother.

"I hope you're at peace, now. I hope it was all worth it to you." I muttered like an idiot to the contents of the urn before turning it upside down and watching it flutter in the wind, trickle down the cliffs, into the water of First Beach.

I tossed the urn aside, yanking a pocket knife out of my shorts pocket and flicking it open. I mused at the possibility of running the blade along my own throat, but it was purposeless. The slice would be healed before it had a chance to even bleed properly.

I grabbed a handful of my shoulder length hair and began to hack it off with the pocket knife I was told was one of my fathers. It was the only thing of his that I had, and the only piece of him that I knew.

I let the handfuls of hair fall in the wind. It was tradition to cut your hair in the mourning of a loved one.

When the dull ache in my scalp began to dissipate, I ran my fingers through the choppy mess. The sky clouded over and a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. I sighed, shoving the pocket knife back into my pocket, placing the lid back on my mother's urn and began my way back down the cliffs.

I could see a few forms in the distance, standing near where the beach met the beginnings of the dense forest growth. I grumbled under my breath. I knew it'd be Quil and Jake. They'd been on my ass for the last week, pestering me, asking if I was okay. I knew it's what they were supposed to do, but hell. After assuring numerous people that I was fine, I began to get irritated when people uttered their words of condolences and asked if I would be okay.

I avoided their hollers from down the beach, electing to just go home and stew. I had had countless moments since I found Anita Call hanging by a thick rope in the garage, but I still couldn't fathom that the woman whom gave me life, who took care of me, ceased to exist. I could sit for hours trying to contemplate and I never came up with a calculated response for myself.

I had felt damn right insane. I felt like a robot. Everything I'd done was on autopilot. Everyone at the service was sobbing. My mother was a sweet, loving person and they all loved her as much as I did. They felt it, the despair, but I was numbed to the hilt. I couldn't cry, I couldn't feel pain. Just a dim nothing.

When I got back to the house, the scent familiar scent of the Call home wafted into my senses and I felt empty. It was hard to believe that this was once the house of my family. Given, my mother and I were the only Calls, but we were a family, and even lacking a father, I still felt a sense of home in my mother's house.

The intense numbness only increased when I realized I'd probably never have any third generation Calls running around this home. I'd never have a woman to take my last name, never get a chance to be the father I'd never had.

Imprinting was strong business and I doubted that I'd ever experience what the others in the pack had or were experiencing. A better half that could make they either cry in pleasure or pain. I'd never know that.

I wanted so badly to cry, to scream, to something, but nothing came.

The door to the garage where I'd found my mother was still slightly opened. I slammed it shut, flinging the cupboard over the fridge open and snatching up the first bottle of my mother malt liquor. I was numb, what was some more numbness? Hell, it was my mothers and I doubted she'd mind if I just wasted away for a while.

Flopping on the couch, and turning on the TV, I downed half of the first unopened bottle, flicking the channels as I felt my eyes grow slightly heavy. The second half of the bottle created a light burn in the back of the throat.

After a while, after three bottles and a damn good drunken haze, I looked around the room. The framed photos on the mantel haunted me momentarily. I stood in a huff, running my arm along the wooden surface, knocking over all the photos of my childhood, the photos of my mother's smiling face.

They fell to the hardwood floor with a hard clatter. The noise echoed through the empty house. I smirked, going back to my spot on the couch. I sunk back into the last of the liquor in the bottles.

My eyes were just about to crash when a loud knock on the front door sounded. I glanced at a clock on the opposite wall.

8:30.

Who in the hell would be here at 8:30? I wondered drunkenly. Ah, who cares. They'll probably go away after a while.

The knock sounded again and I was growing irritated. "Damn it, Embry!" the voice of Renessme Cullen hollered. "I know you're in there, so you might as well open the door!" she stated. I rolled my eyes, knowing full and well Nessie wasn't one to give up.

"Come on man," a second voice added. I should have known that Nessie couldn't be anywhere without Jake up her ass.

Fucking imprint bullshit.

"Alright, goddamn!" screamed back, the incessant knocking giving my head a good ache.

I wretched the door open, facing little Nessie, who had a casserole covered in foil and a slight frown. Jake was behind her, his frown matching hers.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" I slurred, leaning against the doorframe. Nessie scowled, pushing past me.

"Christ Em, you smell like liquor." Jake told me, following Nessie into my house. I shrugged as Nessie set the food she'd brought on the kitchen table and wandered into the living room where she appraised the empty liquor bottles.

"Embry," she sighed, "This isn't healthy." she said in motherly tone. I snorted.

"Ah, who gives a shit, Ness." I stumbled slightly, as Jake caught my arm. I was a damn wolf, I was supposed to be agile, but I guess liquor can haze even the most stealthy. I jerked away from him.

"Don't you fucking touch me, Jacob." I garbled. Jake only shook his head. Nessie picked up the bottles and tossed them into the garbage in the kitchen. She unwrapped the food and proceeded to shove it in the oven.

"I made chicken Alfredo," Nessie decided to announce as she began to pick up the broken photos on the floor, not even asking what had happened, and began to wash the dirty dishes in the sink. Jake took a seat in at the table. "Your mom's favorite." she added quietly, but not quiet enough for my ears to not her.

I laughed cynically, stumbling to lean against the doorframe that lead into the kitchen.

"Well she's fucking dead now, so it don't really matter." I said, growing irritated with Jake and Nessie's presence. I knew they were just trying to help in my time of mourning, but I didn't want help. But Jake and Nessie were like that. Since Sam had retired as alpha, that meant Emily retired as well and Nessie had pretty much taken Emily's role of pack momma and even though Jake wasn't the alpha most of the pack convened at his home.

"Embry." Nessie warned, turning toward me. "I know you're hurting. ."

"That's just the funniest fucking part." I cut her off and she flicked the faucet off, to pay full attention to what I had to say. Jake was watching me, eyebrows quirked. "I'm not even sad, I can't even cry." my throat began to become tight. "I haven't felt a thing since I found her," I stumbled toward the garage door, pushing it open and letting it slam against the wall. "Hangin' in the garage. She had a massive fucking bruise around her neck." Nessie's eyes began to tear up and I cupped my own neck to demonstrate my point.

"Oh, Em. . " Nessie murmured.

"Nessie," Jake warned her, telling her to let me talk. He was hoping I'd have a mini break down and begin to actually feel something. I watched their quick exchange and felt enraged. I'd never feel that way. I'd never fully love and understand someone like they had with each other.

"I've never been so void of emotion in my entire life!' I roared. Jake stood then, making sure Nessie was behind him. A primal instinct that only served to piss me off more. "I'm a fucking nothing, like a tiny lil speck in the universe!" Nessie was silently crying. "My mother was the only person I had, Jake!" I yelled. "I don't got what you got!" I just kept taking out all my bottle up thoughts on the two of them. I knew it wasn't right. "I'll never have a Nessie, or a Kim or a Evangeline!" Jake took a step forward, placing his hand on my shoulder."You don't know that man. It's only a matter of time." he tried to assure me. I shoved his hand off and saw his jaw clench.

"Bullshit!" I hollered in his face. "I have no mother, no imprint, I was a fucking bastard child!" Jake only stared at me. "I'm a nothing nobody! I always was, it's just more obvious now!"

"Embry man, you got to keep your head up. You have me and Nessie and the pack. We're always like your family, man." I only laughed in Jake's face at this.

"It's easy for you, descendent of the pack's leader, you've got the perfect mate, you've got everything!" I lashed out, sounding whiny. "And what the hell do I have?" I asked, not expecting an answer. "I have an empty house and a head full of nothing, a heart full of no love for no one, that's what I've got. So don't you preach to me like you know, asshole!"

It was a completely unfair argument. I knew that. Jake was one of my best friends. I was treating him like shit when I knew all he was doing was trying to calm me.

"You're way out of line, Embry!" Jake got in my face. "You're nothing because you think you are." he refused to sugarcoat his words and I heard Nessie scold him "You become what you believe" he muttered the words and it felt like a brick wall hit me. "You know who taught me that?" he asked me, I stared coldly ahead. "Anita fucking Call." he gritted and I wanted to hit him so badly. I was being an asshole, but I wasn't enough of an asshole to hit Jake in front of Nessie and have her upset, even more upset then I'd made her.

Jake shoved me hard, making me glare at him. "I feel for you, I do. My mom died too, or have you forgotten? But don't you take out your shit on us, we're here to help you and you're being difficult." he pushed me again and I began to tremble with anger. "So you can give me a call when you have stopped being an insensitive prick, and stopped feeling sorry about the things you can perfectly deal with when you stop trying to act like you're invincible to feeling any kind grief."

He motioned for Nessie to follow him, but she ambled in front of me. I stopped trembling when I'd seen the terrified look on her face and I knew it was my doing for my little outburst. Nessie had been like a sister to me for years.

"You know I love you like my big brother, don't you, Em?" she asked. I just stared at her. "It's going to get better, I know it will." she assured me, resting a gently hand on my shoulder. "You're always part of our family." she said, before walking out.

It should have been more than enough for me to want to drop the emotionless façade, the whole pack showing me just how much they loved me, but it wasn't.

It only made me feel just the more useless and meaningless. I'd never have what each of them had. I'd never be what they had the potential to be.

My buzz was beginning to wear thin.

I indulged in the last of the bottles in the liquor cabinet and sat in deep thought.

The longer I thought about how pathetic I've become, the angrier I became. I was angry that this life had turned out to be what it was. I was angry that the only thing I would allow myself to feel was anger.

I sat out in the garage, where I'd found my mother, for a while, just looking around in my drunken stupor as if I would find some answers. What in the world could have possessed my mother to do something like that to herself. I knew she was unhappy, but I just didn't push hard enough to help her.

My drunk was just at the peak when I noticed the shotgun my mom had bought for home protection, hanging on a gun hook in the garage. I wondered why she chose to hang herself rather than just ending it quick with one shot.

I stumbled around the clutter, yanking the cool metal off the hook. I ran my fingers over the barrel wondering if a shot would kill me, or if I'd just heal. A shot to the head would definitely be the last thing I'd ever do.

Everyone always says that alcohol is like a depressant and I have to testify to that. I was so deep in the frame of self pity and emotional loathing I felt helpless to myself.

So there I was, faced with a simple choice. In my mind, I was a lost cause. There was nothing for me to live for. I had no one, no really, and nothing important to be responsible for. There was a shotgun resting in my hands and I could end all the feelings that I was feeling and all the things I didn't want to feel. I had the perfect opportunity, all I had to do was buck up and decide that's what I wanted to do.

When I'd made my irrational decision, I found myself at the cliffs overlooking First Beach, where I'd been earlier to dump my mother ashes. It was selfish of me to have driven. I was piss drunk and I was fully capable of hurting someone. I didn't give a shit about me, but if I killed someone on the way of killing myself, I'd really be even deeper in my own self hatred.

As I made my way up the cliff side, things became a blur. It wasn't so much the alcohol now as it was the fact that for once in my life, I made a choice that I felt was the best for me. I was ready to leave this life that had become so empty and it seemed like the right thing to do. What kind of man would I be if I just hung around, leeching on the rest of the packs' happiness. A useless, pathetic one. This way, everyone would win and I'd be at peace - I'd be with my mother. Maybe then I'd be on the receiving end of some questions answered.

The sun just peeked out from behind the clouds as I was really getting ready to do this. I was about to end myself and I was still numb. The warmth of the sun was nice, it seemed to have calmed me. I was in a moment of peace, just knowing that the sun would be the last thing I'd see.

The more I thought of the peace I'd feel, the happier I became. I squeezed my eyes shut, lifting the shotgun. And then a sudden wave of grief had hit me. What would my brothers say when they found me here, what would they think? I doubted they would miss my self hating frame of mind. All the more reason to pull the trigger my finger was now trembling on.

Tears of frustration and longing stung my eyes. I began to heave breaths. Peace of mind was so close I could practically taste it. I peered out at the stirring waters of the beach as the sky began to cloud over again. Again my eyes shut and the tendons in my fingers began to flex, squeezing the trigger.

"Is this really what you want?" a voice I'd never heard before addressed me from my blindside. I jumped, fumbling with the deathtrap in my grip. I got a hold of myself as I spun to face the intruder. I was shocked I didn't hear her approach, but none of that mattered because the moment my eyes made gracious contact with her, my world was thrown into a spin, the kind of blunder that makes you dizzy.

My mind was fuzzy, but the feelings that began to make my heart race were perfectly clear.

She was the most perfect being I'd ever seen in my entire 20 years of life. She was tiny and her bronze skin glowed. She had a head full of pin straight black hair that was being thrashed around in the wind. The bright green glint in her eyes was vivid enough to be seen from several feet away. She was perfection defined.

"You're far to fortunate to leave a life that has just begun." she spoke, her voice dripped. I snorted. My knees felt weak and for a moment I was convinced that she was just a figment of my fucked up imagination. That in the last moments I'd breathe, my mind had visualized the perfect imprint.

But the feelings were all to real. My world tilted, she was the center of my being. It was simple yet so complicated. Something in me told me that she was the only thing that mattered now, nothing would ever be as good as it could be without her. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, she was the breath when I felt short of it, she was suddenly everything and I didn't even know her name. All I knew was that she was beautiful and I'd be a damn fool to kill myself knowing that she walked this earth, meant for me.

"Although the choice is yours." she continued to speak like she knew everything that had been ailing me, not telling me I was an idiot for considering this, but not condoning it either. "You can choose to leave," she murmured, "or stay."

My choice was made before she had even uttered the rest of her sentence. She had completely turned my life around in a single moment and I should have been spooked at the spontaneity and irony of the situation but the only thing I felt was my mind grow heavy with ease. I was suddenly at peace as my eyelids began to fall and my body felt incredibly heavy.

The last thing I remembered was the goddess that saved my life smile graciously and I knew for the first time since my mother died that I had a reason to breathe.

I didn't feel my body hit the rocky surface of the cliffs as I blacked out with a feeling of complete hope.

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_AN: Chapter one, baby! Hope you like it. Remember, reviews are loved and appreciated._


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